


Heart's Desire

by SparksofCreativity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multiple Characters Mentioned, character tags reflect who is seeing an image in the mirror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9540287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparksofCreativity/pseuds/SparksofCreativity
Summary: After the events of first year, the Mirror of Erised is hidden until a young girl desperate for consolation accidentally uncovers it in a room of forgotten things. She leaves after looking into it, but others find it, one after another in their own time.





	1. Ginny Weasley

She’d heard about the Mirror through an argument between Ron and Harry her second year, but didn’t think about it until her fourth year. She was trying to find the Room of Requirement to unwind before Potions, but didn’t tell the castle what she wanted. It took her to a room full of things - random objects, forgotten or lost, that had somehow ended up in a room that collected them, giving them a home. Thinking it would be nice if that happened for people, she didn’t notice to drape caught on her foot until it fell on her, covering her head to foot. Shoving it off and looking around for an attacker, her wand raised and a Bat-Bogey Hex on her tongue, she saw the Mirror. Knowing better than to touch an odd object - she had learned a lot her first year, more than she would have liked - she kept her wand in her hand, defensive spells racing through her mind until she stepped in front of the Mirror, into the middle of the frame.  
She’s in the center of the frame, in front of a simple cottage she had seen near the Burrow. Harry’s next to her, without a scar and with a large grin, a broom over his shoulder, a ring glinting on his left hand. Glancing, she sees a matching one on her own, right above a delicate band with a lion engraved in it. She has a broom in her own hand, a grin matching Harry’s pointed at him. Her hair is tied back, a lighter ginger streaked with blonde - she must have been in the sun a lot - and they’re both in casual clothes.  
She blinks a few times, trying to keep her emotions at bay. She’s dating Dean, she should be seeing him, but the scene changes and she’s flying, only blue skies in front of her and tree tops framing the bottom of the mirror. Harry’s still beside her, showing off some new maneuvers and making her laugh. They’re flying over the countryside, passing by so many familiar things she loves dearly and wants to leave behind.  
The Burrow and its makeshift pitch pass by, the shed full of Muggle things with its light on and Fred and George’s window open to let out purple smoke. It’s followed by the Lovegood’s rook-like castle home with its plum bushes by the door and owls in the yard, waiting to deliver the Quibbler issues waiting in boxes by the door. Odd plants fill the garden, stretching past the house to weird limits. The creek that runs behind it is barely visible, with more bushes and plants bordering it. Next is the Diggory’s neat house with its properly-kept garden, the black rock with its badger etching surrounded by flowers and candles. She knows there’s a charm around it that keeps it safe from weather, the letters and offerings kept pristine for the Diggorys to look at or avoid. She knows that close to the rock, hidden by bouquets of sunflowers and black-eyed susans, there’s a small replica of the Triwizard Cup with a Swedish Short-snout figurine holding a wand and a bubble on its nose resting inside, a tribute to the first casualty in the war. London passes by, the entrance to the Ministry and Grimmauld Place, lonely and dark and forgotten, and they’re over Hogsmeade. No one is in the streets but the lights are all on, Honeydukes’ and the Three Broomsticks packed with indistinct figures, laughter leaking out of Zonko’s. The Forbidden Forest passes under them, growls and howls following them with stampeding hooves and clicking pincers, wings flapping and eyes peering through the trees. Hagrid’s hut, the lights shining on the pumpkin patch, pass by in a second, then the castle with its cold stone and hidden places, and they’re over the ocean.   
It’s cold, she can tell, but clear. The waves below them are dark and churning without a care, the stars above them twinkling and distant. There isn’t a cloud in the sky to block the lights, the moon near full and shining bright enough to light their path. There isn’t a place to land, a patch to stop, but they aren’t looking for one - they’re flying, free and weightless. No responsibilities, no burdens on their shoulders, nothing but their brooms underneath them and the clothes they’re wearing, their wands in their pockets and rings on their fingers. They look at each other and smile, only caring for each other as the moon goes down and the sun comes up, turning the sky from a blue so dark it’s almost black to purple to pink and red and orange until it lightens again, back to blue, clear and boundless.   
She sees her face again, but closer this time. Her eyes are alight, her smile genuine, her laughter light and careless. There’s no evidence of the little girl who was possessed by a memory, no hint of forced bravery and nights spent crying, no inclination of a head forced to be held high and a tongue with painful spells on its tip, no appearance of a hand that twitches for a wand at a loud noise or eyes that flinch when they see a rooster or a snake. Nothing to show what made her, what formed her, what hurt her. Nothing to show the trauma that turned her from the delicate little girl with six brothers to the lioness with fire in her eyes and vengeance in her veins, pain on her claws and a tongue that could destroy anyone who opposes her.  
She steps back, biting her lip and gripping her wand as she shakes her head. The engraving on the mirror mocks her with its meaningless letters and pointless gibberish. _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.  
“Why can’t you show me something useful?” she spits at it through gritted teeth, a tear escaping to trail down her cheeks as she turns and leaves, running from the room.  
The Mirror, of course, doesn’t respond - despite its inherent magic nature, it’s an object, without a mind, without thoughts and feelings and words to give. It simply reflects the heart rather than the face, giving information that one can do with as they will.   
_I show not your face but your heart’s desire_.   
A simple purpose, innocuous and harmless enough in theory, but with revelations that can destroy or make a person. A simple ability to render someone powerless or give them a drive for a purpose. A simple image that could parallel a boggart or power a Patronus.  
A simple mirror with nothing but an enchantment and a sheet of glass held by a metal frame. A simple mirror that could annihilate someone or empower them. A simple mirror with no knowledge of the power it holds.  
A simple mirror that reflects a heart instead of a head, unaware of the torment it places on whomever may pass it by.


	2. Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall finds it after the war is over, after Tom Riddle crumples into an old man. In it, she sees her students the way they should have been.   
James and Lily are happy and alive, older than 21 and loving parents. They have wrinkles, laugh lines and crow’s feet, but their children are tumbling around them, laughing and bouncing around. Harry’s wearing a Gryffindor tie and has little sisters, one in Slytherin and one in Ravenclaw. His hand is linked with Ginny Weasley’s, a strong young woman whose eyes don’t have the pain of possession, whose posture is carefree instead of careful.   
The Weasleys are with them, Fabian and Gideon laughing at Molly scolding Fred and George, who are holding a new prank and looking bashful. Bill and Charlie are gently teasing Percy about his ambitions, Fleur standing next to Percy and scolding her husband. Ron is chattering to Harry with an arm around Hermione Granger, who’s talking to an intently listening Arthur Weasley.   
Luna Lovegood has her arm linked with the Ravenclaw Potter’s, eyes alight and a mythical creature at her feet. Behind them, the Slytherin is on Sirius Black’s shoulders, telling a story to a laughing Regulus. Both Black brothers are healthy, their faces full of color and life. Sirius has the signet ring Orion wore, a proud Lord, but Regulus is holding a folder of parchment, clearly a Regent for his brother.   
Next to Sirius, Remus is smiling at Tonks, no scars on his face but his hand linked into a little boy’s with blue hair. Tonks is young and clumsy, holding their son’s hand, telling her husband something with laughter in her eyes. Remus looks fond and Tonks looks joyful, their son lifting his feet to swing in between his parents, giggling joyfully. Andromeda is beside Narcissa and Lucius, telling them something as Ted holds a mobile and explains it to Draco. The young Malfoy is holding Astoria Greengrass’s hand, listening to his Uncle but watching the girl, who looks enraptured by the Muggle object.   
Behind him, Severus is talking to Lily, his hair clean and in a bun and his robes more befitting of an Apothecary owner than a teacher. When James says something to Severus, he responds amicably instead of sniping back at him. Minerva remembers Fleamont Potter and his son’s skill at Potions - he’s offering advice, scribbling down a note and giving it to Severus without charming the paper to turn his hair yellow.   
Neville joins Harry and the others, his back straight and his head held high, more confident than the boy had been in all his years at Hogwarts. Frank and Alice are near Sirius, listening to the young Ravenclaw’s story. The longer Minerva looks, the more students she can see, happy and alive, stretching far back into the imaginary field they’re all standing on. Once she wonders where she is, a tabby cat with odd markings around its eyes strolls into frame, coaxing the little Lupin down to the ground as it passes and nudging Luna’s wandering creature back to her feet. The cat winks at her, and McGonagall smiles sadly. What could have been never will be, but in another life, in a different parallel, the future she imagined played out for her precious students as it should have.  
She leaves thinking how to change now the war is down, what she wishes for her students. A chance for happiness and hope and fulfillment that should have been with a pair of twenty one year olds and the son they left too soon. A chance for a better future, a better world, so none of her students will be lambs for the slaughter or children in war. A chance for none to reflect the nervous boy whose biggest fear was a teacher that had to become a leader too late and lead a revolution without knowing if the catalyst would arrive in time. For none to reflect the precious only daughter of parents who lost so much, the sole sister of six loving boys who went from a happy little child to a young woman who forced herself to be brave until she felt it for real after years of living a lie, who helped lead a revolution without knowing if anyone she loved would come through safely, least of all herself. For none to reflect the girl who went from believing in fairy tales to believing she wouldn’t make it through the war. For none to reflect the girl hungry for knowledge and new things, who turned her plethora of knowledge and abilities into a weapon of war for her best friend. For none to reflect to reflect the youngest son who let himself fall into his insecurities and betray the first person to value him for himself, who went through many incarnations of his own flawed self before settling into the position of the faithful lieutenant, the trusted right-hand man. For none to reflect the lonely little boy who lived lonely and hopeless for ten years, who turned from an angry, lonely teen into a mature, selfless, self-sacrificing young man, the figurehead of a revolution that hinged on his death after years of learning to trust and love.  
She leaves the mirror as she found it, with a new determination to give all new students a chance for the life that should have belonged to the ones she’s lost.


End file.
